The Dark King
by SailorPerfect
Summary: Known as the Dark King for his unrelenting savagery on the battlefield, he was driven by the evil consuming his heart and murdered all who defied him. Until the day he saw her, an enchantress who captured his soul, a woman he would defy an empire for..R/R
1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:** Now that I've been re-doing The Dark King, there will be several additions and also several changes. I hope no one really minds, but these changes are for the better, I promise! This story will be much more explanatory, but will remain with that mystery and suspense that kept most of you on the edge of your seat. I needed to make these changes in order for the story to progress into what it was meant to become, or what I had in mind for it. This beginning may confuse a bit, but you should hopefully understand it. So read on, enjoy, and please review or send any comments to my e-mail. Thank you. 

  
  


**Blood and the Moon**

I 

  
BLESSED be this place,   
More blessed still this tower;   
A bloody, arrogant power   
Rose out of the race   
Uttering, mastering it,   
Rose like these walls from these   
Storm-beaten cottages -   
In mockery I have set   
A powerful emblem up,   
And sing it rhyme upon rhyme   
In mockery of a time   
Half dead at the top. 

II 

  
Alexandria's was a beacon tower, and Babylon's   
An image of the moving heavens, a log-book of the sun's journey and the moon's;   
And Shelley had his towers, thought's crowned powers he called them once. 

  
I declare this tower is my symbol; I declare   
This winding, gyring, spiring treadmill of a stair is my ancestral stair;   
That Goldsmith and the Dean, Berkeley and Burke have travelled there. 

  
Swift beating on his breast in sibylline frenzy blind   
Because the heart in his blood-sodden breast had dragged him down into mankind,   
Goldsmith deliberately sipping at the honey-pot of his mind, 

  
And haughtier-headed Burke that proved the State a tree,   
That this unconquerable labyrinth of the birds, century after century,   
Cast but dead leaves to mathematical equality; 

  
And God-appointed Berkeley that proved all things a dream,   
That this pragmatical, preposterous pig of a world, its farrow that so solid seem,   
Must vanish on the instant if the mind but change its theme; 

  
Saeva Indignatio and the labourer's hire,   
The strength that gives our blood and state magnanimity of its own desire;   
Everything that is not God consumed with intellectual fire. 

III 

  
The purity of the unclouded moon   
Has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor.   
Seven centuries have passed and it is pure,   
The blood of innocence has left no stain.   
There, on blood-saturated ground, have stood   
Soldier, assassin, executioner.   
Whether for daily pittance or in blind fear   
Or out of abstract hatred, and shed blood,   
But could not cast a single jet thereon.   
Odour of blood on the ancestral stair!   
And we that have shed none must gather there   
And clamour in drunken frenzy for the moon. 

IV 

  
Upon the dusty, glittering windows cling,   
And seem to cling upon the moonlit skies,   
Tortoiseshell butterflies, peacock butterflies,   
A couple of night-moths are on the wing.   
Is every modern nation like the tower,   
Half dead at the top? No matter what I said,   
For wisdom is the property of the dead,   
A something incompatible with life; and power,   
Like everything that has the stain of blood,   
A property of the living; but no stain   
Can come upon the visage of the moon   
When it has looked in glory from a cloud. 

  
~ W.B. Yeats ~ 

  
  


* * * * * *

**The Dark King**

By: SailorPerfect

Part 1: In the Beginning

Through shadow and night, through darkness and power, they reigned the earth and rose as majesties over these lands. Arrogant and cunning, gods and monsters in their own right, they lived freely and took what was desired, and what had been created by them.

Glory came in blood, and glory came in strength. And through this glory fear was born and festered in the hearts of mortal men. How could one exist with the might of many silently living in the hills of the land, beneath the sea, and the very air that was breathed? How could mortal men ever find the courage, and the strength to build their own world when the world they inhabited would never truly be theirs?

And so the gods of the skies, mountains, and seas saw a time approaching when their own immortality would no longer matter, and no longer dominate as a gift, but instead a terror. In realization came sadness, but also acceptance that the time that had once been theirs was now past. Creation had been given by them, life had been blessed by them, but now the moment of departure into _Telhatas_, the city beyond the ancient realm, was upon them.

A single night was seared into time as the Creators of life and being bid the earth farewell. Mortals, men, women, and children alike listened as sorrowful songs echoed quietly through the hills and valleys of the earth, through the traitorous ocean depths. The stars swam as bright as the sun overhead, and seemed to recede behind the clouds that moved to cover the darkened sky. In one night those who had once lived and dominated life were now gone, fading, sliding quietly into history.

How was anyone, mortals or even gods, to know that two had remained? How would time be able to tell the threat that came with the remaining of evil, the thirst for gain and might? How would mortals fight against a tyrant that held the ultimate power in merely one hand alone?

Evil and light, shadow and pure. Both felt the temptation for power, felt the luring of greed. Who was to stop them now that the others had departed, who was to halt their gain of land and cause for despair? Men had weaknesses; men were easily taken over, and easily created into slaves. How could they fight what their own hearts could not fight against?

But not even gods could see that two women could tame what nothing else had ever been allowed too. One was discovered in the beginning, and passed through the centuries from daughter to daughter as a maiden of mystery and immense beauty. Through her one found the peace to settle the gain of power in his heart, and remained a light shadow on the earth thereafter.

The second was found centuries into the birth of the New Age, and was raised in a land filled with terror and death. As a god, alone and in control, bitter that a nemesis had found what he could not, he had swept the earth with his wrath and conquered the regions he desired. War and destruction had filled his heart and driven the need to create conflict among mortals, enabling him to see, and to fight, what hate had created on the slopes of _Kharasan_, the mountains where many had met peril and death.

The war raged for years, fueled by his own greed, and _Kharasan_ became a grave for the bodies of men who fell in battle. The earth here silently welcomed the spilled blood, as dark and traitorous as the god was, and thrived on the hatred and vengeance that came with this.

It was in this second, when she had been raised from child into woman, that this god finally found the cause for halt. In seeing her and knowing her, in touching her and taking her, the blackness that had enveloped him was poured steadily from his heart and mind. Fulfillment came in a split moment, and the mountains of _Kharasan_ were deserted of men and their god, leaving the hills steeped in a history that would forever be remembered as the _Battle of Kharasan_.

Peace settled as a cool mist over the earth, the time for mortal men to rule and take what was theirs gliding as a turn in the history of men. With quiet and still, with peace and silence, a New Age began once again.

A New Age for men and kings, for lords and masters to rule the land, and a night for storms to brew through the skies, and for a single child to be born unto this world.

Gods and immortals had receded, power and strength a vague memory in men's minds, but a child would rise from boy to man and take what gods and monsters had left to him.

And one day, when the earth and the skies met once again, he would become known as _The Dark King_…..

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  
**Last Notes:** Now I completely understand if you readers are scratching your heads and wondering, 'what the hells going on here?' This was narration, the beginning before The Dark King even existed, but introducing the history of the earth before he came along. Now who's speaking? Who's narrating this and telling this story? (other then me as the writer) Lets just say there's a third party involved.

From here I've taken out each of the chapters for The Dark King and will begin re-writing them one by one. The plans I have for them are supposed to improve them and, hopefully, make them way better. The story itself is an epic, like Helen of Troy and other stories like it. I plan to evolve each chapter and make them more….how to say it? More descriptive, more in depth, and much more interesting. I just hope this attempt works.

I've already received a review that I was more then ready for from obscurity. Now I don't blame her, or even any of you readers, for think I'm doing this for more reviews. I believe many writers in the past have done this for that sole purpose and I'll even go so far to admit that that was the majority of the reason I first began this story. Reviews, reviews, and more reviews. I suppose it's turned into somewhat of a contest for some writers these days. I'm telling you obscurity (I hope I'm spelling that right) and any others thinking that's my purpose here that it is **NOT**. I'm doing this because this story needs much more then what I've given it so far to become what I plan for it. My reasons for doing this are completely my own, but I do hope that no one continues thinking it's for reviews after reading this. And besides that, you CAN find the other chapters to this story at my website. Thank you. 

I apologize to everyone who's been waiting for the release of the next chapter, but your wait will be just a tad longer. Actually more then a tad, but I swear the wait will definitely be worth it! Thank you to all of you and please send any comments to my e-mail. ~SailorPerfect

_**The Dark King**_ copyright © 9.29.02 by _SailorPerfect_   


_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	2. The Glory That Was

**Author's Note:** This is the first chapter it's a completely new chapter. In the original first chapter to this story I had titled it 'The Enchantress' and basically started it off right after the Dark King took over Alexandria. I needed to elaborate on this battle and really go into full detail with it. This chapter introduces the characters of the Dark King, his Generals, Miles, and his own General Alexander. Please I beg of you readers to remember that this is an epic and so means the story will be long and drawn out. Every small detail will be focused on and spoken of. So I hope you will enjoy and come back for more. 

  
  


  
**LO**, praise of the prowess of people-kings   
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,   
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!   
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,   
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,   
awing the earls. Since erst he lay   
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:   
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,   
till before him the folk, both far and near,   
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,   
gave him gifts: a good king he!   
To him an heir was afterward born,   
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent   
to favor the folk, feeling their woe   
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader   
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,   
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.   
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,   
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.   
So becomes it a youth to quit him well   
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,   
that to aid him, aged, in after days,   
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,   
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds   
shall an earl have honor in every clan.   
Forth he fared at the fated moment,   
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.   
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,   
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,   
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,   
the leader beloved who long had ruled....   
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,   
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:   
there laid they down their darling lord   
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,   
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure   
fetched from far was freighted with him.   
No ship have I known so nobly dight   
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,   
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay   
a heaped hoard that hence should go   
far o'er the flood with him floating away.   
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,   
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done   
who in former time forth had sent him   
sole on the seas, a suckling child.   
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,   
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,   
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,   
mournful their mood. No man is able   
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,   
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight! 

  
~ Beowulf, Author Unknown ~ 

  
  


* * * * * *

  
_Narrator Intermission _

The history of this New Age began by two gods who remained on earth, refusing to relinquish their hold on mortal men. Centuries of blood shed was spilled by one who seemed intent on destroying what the other had found in a woman of light and life. But not even a god could know that a single woman would tame what nothing and no one had ever been allowed to tame before.

With the disappearance of these two the earth was left to men, a time coming finally when they could choose to rule as they wished, to appoint who they desired. One King, many lords of lands, and a kingdom that was soon filled with tranquility and peace.

But not for long.

Murder and deceit will begin this tale, and the rise of a man who will sweep the earth with his power and dominance. What two gods of monsters had left to him will be conquered and held, and the dawn of a war to gods and men will begin.

Now you may wonder of the history of this man, of a past shrouded in mystery and shadows that is a part of him. You may fear him as he's become, may desire or loathe him as many do. You may find your allegiance held by him, your beliefs and loyalties bound to him as a child to its mothers breast. Such a man may inspire hatred, revenge, lust, and obsession. But the most dominant of all emotions is the thirst for war.

But as all tales of murder and betrayal must go, a woman will be the center of such chaos, and this one woman will begin an epic that had always been meant to occur.

Do you wonder what she holds? Do you wonder what she will bring to this earth, to this race of men? Do you wonder if she will bring salvation, or war itself?

Only time will tell……….

  


* * * * * *

  


**The Dark King**

By: SailorPerfect

Chapter 1: The Glory That Was

Alexandria, Capital City to the Northern Continent of Earth

Stronghold of Miles, Lord of Barakhas

Dawn crept over the land, slinking silently across the darkened corners of the earth and spreading its arms to encompass all beneath it. The earth was damp, a thick fog settling over the dense trees, the rising sun overhead struggling to burn through the mists and touch the waiting plains below.

Alexandria stood as a capital city to the northern continent of earth, reigning over smaller regions and the number of people who lived among these lands. The borders had once been well protected, held by soldiers loyal to Miles and his rule after the mysterious death to the former king of earth.

When the attack had come none had been prepared for it. The protection to the northern and southern borders had been strong, but unable to withstand the sudden and brutal attack of several thousands of soldiers. The battles had begun at the same time, planned meticulously to prevent the soldiers patrolling to retaliate and struggle to overcome the legions that had wiped them out in a matter of hours.

With the northern and southern borders both left open to the invasion of this massive army, they had advanced and taken what Miles had been unable to hold. Pouring steadily through the land, war had raged for days as the soldiers of Barakhas had struggled to prevent the invasion of The Dark King. Failure had been certain from the beginning, and so Alexandria had dwindled and fell in the glory it had once been.

In the last hours of his hold on his city, Miles stood overlooking the lands that had once belonged solely to him, lands he had nurtured and held with pride over the passing of the years. On the high walls of the palace, he could see in the far distance the army that would soon attack them with the breaking of the day.

_How had it come to this?_ The thought drifted vaguely through his mind, bringing on a fierce wave of sorrow and despair that he had failed his men. How had the world changed so quickly, and with such a man at its lead? How could he have allowed him to come this far, this close, and take what had been his for so long?

With a heavy sigh, he ran a weary hand down his face, pausing to rub deeply at his eyes. It had been days since he had slept, to worried and overcome with anxiety to be able to rest while his men fought and died by the plans and orders he issued to them. He would gladly fight with them, alongside them, but his own importance in this earth's future wouldn't permit it. As well as the fact that his head General refused to allow him near the battlegrounds.

He watched the sun rise steadily into the sky, listened as the day began and his own soldiers prepared below for the final battle. This was their last hope, the last remnant of an army that he had to send out to guard his city. He wouldn't dare spare the rest of his men, who resided in the southern continent of earth, Korinthos. If the battle was lost, then he would need his men to help protect what little land they had left.

He heard faint footsteps, but didn't turn to greet who had intruded on his privacy. He listened as the steps came to just behind him, than stopped and the silence fell once again.

"Today is the day." Alexander spoke, head General to his remaining legion, and his most trusted advisor. It was through Alexander's stubbornness that Miles was unable to join the battles, and through Alexander that he had lived so long thus far. "If my suspicions are correct, they will attack by noon."

"Then we have only hours to prepare ourselves." Miles turned to him, faced the soldier who had seen more battles and bloodshed then any should at such a young age. "Have the women and children moved to the caves near the mountains. They won't be found there." He strode from the sight below him, back into the deeper recesses of the palace, and toward the battlements where his men gathered to prepare and gather the weapons that would be needed in their fight.

Alexander motioned one of his men forward, giving him the order to take several dozen men with him to escort the women and children. Once done he joined Miles, who stood quietly watching his men take up swords and shields.

"I've already told you you're not allowed near the battle this day." Alexander's voice was tinted with warning.

Miles cocked a dark brow. "It's always good to take orders from your own General."

"You're too important to spare at this time. With the Dark King's army advancing and murdering our men, it would be a mortal mistake to allow you near where that man will be." Alexander unsheathed the dagger at his side, toying with it absently. "Take this as wisdom from an old friend."

"You have a clever way of saying things Alexander." Miles walked quietly to the outside of the battlements, took one last survey of his land shimmering in the afterglow of the morning sun. "I feel as if this is the last time I'll see the sunrise from my palace."

Alexander didn't answer, choosing to remain silent instead. He felt, deep in his heart, that Miles was right and Alexandria would never be the same. He had grown here from boy to man, had trained beneath Miles' fathers men, the soldiers of Barakhas. Every skill, every technique he knew he had learned from men who had taught him to be both patient and cunning.

It had been a struggle for him to watch these great men fall, to watch them die as the Dark King took what had been theirs for so long. As the months passed he had found himself to be the one remaining, the one to live on when so many others fell in battle. He wondered if soon his own day would come.

He took the safety of Miles seriously after having been left to his care when his father died. Miles' father had appointed him as head General of his armies and trusted him to train and lead the men with a strong will and firm mind. And on his deathbed he had asked Alexander to watch over his only son, and to protect him in the years to come. Miles' father had felt the earth's government was rapidly changing and soon the sole king of earth would no longer live.

He had a secret plan in his mind to take Miles from there if the Dark King were to advance and capture their lands. He had planned it precisely over the past days and felt it would not fail. He refused to allow his Lord and friend to die like his own comrades in arms had already.

In silence they stood, listening to the sounds of men strapping on armor and weapons, and watched in heavy despair as the shadow that was the Dark King's army slowly advance.

  
  


* * * * * *

  


Ten Miles North of Alexandria's Capital City

The Parthicus Alexandrian Guard, Legiones of the Dark King

A misty river of fog drifted lightly across the plains where the Dark King's legiones were stationed, taking what would be necessary in the fight that would soon litter the fields of Alexandria. With mounting fear and growing aggression, they waited patiently for the plans of battle that their king and his generals presently planned.

Separated from his men, gathered at the edges of the camp and surrounding a small table filled with maps of the Alexandrian city, the Dark King pinpointed where he wished for his generals to gather his legiones and attack the armies of Barakhas.

"Miles will surround himself before the palace with his infantry and cavalry. He will place his archers here," the Dark King motioned to the map's outer edges of the palace, as well as the high walls and battlements, "and attempt to take the majority of our front line with them. His army of men is at its end here in Alexandria and he wouldn't dare risk recruiting more men from his army in Korinthos. The men he has there are the only he would have left after this battle."

His generals nodded their agreement, the five men standing together and contemplating what lay ahead of them. Gregori spoke quietly into the following silence.

"He's at his weakest now. This battle won't last for long."

"No, it won't. My plans will make sure of that." The Dark King's voice was edged with malice, and with the beginnings of victory. "Gregori, you will take your Appolinarians and go to the south of the palace. Kendrick, you take your Gallicans to the north and remain there. Julius, take your Scythians to the west and keep them prepared." With each order he pointed to where they would station themselves, marking the map before turning to his head General and second in command. "Malachite, I want you in the front with the archers and you're Centurians armed to fight the front line. You'll be taking the bulk of Miles' men, but I trust you and your Centurians to hold your own."

"We will hold, my Lord." Malachite spoke with complete confidence in his men.

"And you, my Lord?" Julius asked curiously. "Where will you take your Praetorians?"

"To the east. We will remain there until the battle has commenced and it is time for me to lead them into the palace. While the four of you fight the infantry of Miles, we will take over the palace from within."

They spoke a few more moments over tactics and the placement of the men before breaking apart. They broke camp, ordering the leather tents that had been staked high for sleeping quarters taken down and strapped to the mules, the fire's the soldiers had used to warm themselves put out. The four Generals took there men aside and explained what would be expected of them this day, and where they would be as the battle commenced. Young and old alike, they listened to these men they had grown to both fear and respect over the past months.

While Gregori, Kendrick, and Julius prepared there men, Malachite joined the Dark King, who silently stood overlooking the pass through Alexandria over a small hill. The land here was a vibrant green, spread out before them with sections of crops littering the fields below them. Men worked the rows of crops that gave them their daily means for food and shelter, and helped them provide for their families as well.

Malachite refused to remember that as they took each province of land, their advancement meant the reform of these human lives. The peasants would live and work, die and be re-born under the empire the Dark King was slowly building.

They had known one another for years, had grown from boys into men together, and had learned combat skills with one another. And in all those years Malachite had never understood what it was that drove the Dark King's deep ambitions. He had seen in the early years the drive for more in him, had seen the greed and cunning nature in him, and the slow build of a deeply ingrained power that Malachite had never understood.

He slid a look at his King, studied the narrowed eyes and the concentration in them. He knew that even in these moments before battle he analyzed every last plan he had made, every last detail and anything that may have been left out. The man was clever beyond words and every battle they had gone into had always been won with the most precision.

Deciding he would leave him to his thoughts, he clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, nodding to him when those dark eyes met his. A quiet understanding passed between them before he turned and strode back down the hill, leaving him standing alone once again.

The sun rose slowly, rising in the east over hills and valleys, over slopes and plains toward the glistening spread of Alexandria. The Dark King listened to the sounds surrounding him, watched with some interest as a single Peregrine Falcon flew overhead, its wings spread out and riding on the currents of the wind, its sharp eyes scanning below for any signs of prey. After a few moments it settled itself on a tree nearby, flapping its wings before sitting still and preparing itself for the wait that would come.

Endymion watched the male bird's eyes cut over every small detail in the land, watched him sit patiently for a sign of any other form of life to appear. Moments of silence passed, before the birds eyes landed on him.

They watched each other for sometime, studying the other and acknowledging the quiet power each held. Endymion could see in his eyes an almost fear for him, and a deep respect for one who ruled so absolutely. The message that passed between them was of mutual understanding for each who would hunt their own prey this day.

A small bird entered the falcon's line of vision and he launched his body into the sky, diving straight for the small bird and taking it under his outstretched talons. A small cry was heard before it was quickly cut, and the falcon disappeared with both food and victory.

His own victory would that swift and merciless, he thought with some satisfaction. His own rule would just as precise and ruthless.

He rejoined his men as they set out for the palace of Barakhas, sitting atop his stallion and riding at the head of his men. Surrounding him were his Praetorians, imperial guards to the Dark King. These were men who had personally trained under him, learning every combat skill from him as his four Generals had.

The city came into view and the Dark King turned to Malachite. "Attack at my signal." His general nodded in silent agreement.

When the palace was five miles within range, the Dark King signaled to his men and they broke off from the front line, galloping to the east of the land and allowing Malachite's Centurions to take the front. The formation he had outlined earlier was taken, each set of men falling into line and proceeding forward to the palace, where the soldiers of Barakhas stood waiting, prepared for the attack soon to come.

The Dark King led his men to the east, deep into the forest where the cool shade and shadows descended over them. Here he came to an abrupt halt, his men following suit and waiting as he turned his stallion to face them.

"This day we will take Alexandria and drive Miles from the last stronghold he has. This day we will show him the strength our legiones have and the weakness of his own soldiers." His voice echoed through the quiet woods, his dark eyes studying each of his men in turn. There faces were haggard, lines drawn deeply into there eyes, but the look in them was determined. "I have trained each of you well, and have had each of you follow me into battle. Our conquests have brought us here and our victories will lead us to glory this day."

He took a moment to scan the earth around them, to listen as his legiones of men neared the city and finally halted, bringing an eerie silence to follow. He could almost taste Miles' fear, and his own victory soon coming. The world's way of living would soon change rapidly, with him at its lead.

"Our purpose this day is to infiltrate the palace and take over from within. The Parthicus Guard will slaughter the Barakhan soldiers and we will overthrow their government from within." His stallion moved restlessly, tossing its head and snorting, great white clouds of frost billowing out. With practiced ease he controlled the massive animal, bringing it back under control, as his voice rose in volume to fill the quiet of the forest. "Do not show them mercy, do not show them fear. They will receive their just cause and be cut beneath our blade! Miles will know fear and death this day! He will feel the crushing blow of our legiones and tremble at our might! Today we will have a Parthican Victory!"

The Praetorians raised their swords and hailed the Dark King, their shouts blending together to rise above and drift through the currents of the wind. The Barakhan soldiers heard this, and shifted with unease on the uneven ground before the palace of Alexandria. Only several hundred feet away stood the Parthican guard and soon they would be entrenched into a battle where only one side would emerge victorious.

With his men holding the line beside him, with the sun finally emerging through the thick clouds and beating brilliantly below, the Dark King unsheathed his sword from his side and turned to one of his soldiers near him. "Send the signal."

  
  


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**Last Notes:** I realize this first chapter has nothing to do with the original that I had, but that's the way I've planned it. This introduced each of the characters, but it went more into detail with Miles, Alexander, Malachite, and a bit into the Dark King. Its also showing the lessening of power that Miles has and the gain of the Dark King's.

Here's an explanation of what each of the generals men is: 

**Parthicus Guard:** This refers to the whole army of the Dark King, including each section of men commanded by his Generals. 

**Praetorians:** Imperial Guards to the Dark King, these men are his personal soldiers and fight with him in battles. The Four generals used to be Praetorians until he made them each leaders to his men.

**Appolinarians:** Gregori's men, they are from the Germanic tribes in the south and named after the god Apollo.

**Gallicans:** Kendrick's men, they are from the Gallic legiones and gathered from Italy.

**Scythians:** Julius' men, they were raised for campaigns in the west and gained distinction serving under him.

**Centurions:** Malachite's men, they are the main infantry and horsemen, trained personally under Malachite and were raised in the east.

If you readers don't already know this, I've been tremendously inspired by the Romans and their way of fighting. It's an era that has always fascinated me. I'm seriously very into history and never get tired of learning new things. I just wanted to let you guys know that.

I wanted to explain about the beginning before the chapter even starts, where the narrator is speaking. I'm not telling you who is speaking, just letting you know there is a third party watching everything and will every now and then be putting in their piece about what's going on. If this confuses you guys, I'm sorry, but just try to go along with it.

I wanted to thank everyone who supports this sudden change in my story. You guys make it so much easier to proceed and continue with my plans. Thank you!

Please send any comments or suggestions to my e-mail, or leave me a review with it. The next chapter I will begin working on soon, but first I'd like to update a few of my other stories. ~SailorPerfect

_**The Dark King**_ copyright © 9.29.02 by _SailorPerfect_   


_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	3. Sorrows of the Battlefield

**Author's Note:** I'm trying to keep the updates in the story consistent since I know that even though several of you readers approve of the revision, you're also impatient for the chapters to come out and see how things will turn out. So with that said, I'll **try** to update at least once a month…….or so. Anyway, enough of my babbling, continue on to the story! 

  
**The Battlefield**

Around no fire the soldiers sleep to-night,   
But lie a-wearied on the ice-bound field,   
With cloaks wrapt round there sleeping forms, to shield   
Them from the northern winds. Ere comes the light   
Of morn brave men must arm, stern foes to fight.   
The sentry stands, His limbs with cold congealed,   
His head a nod with sleep; he cannot yield,   
Though sleep and snow in deadly force unite. 

  
Amongst the sleepers lies the Boy awake,   
And wide-eyed plans brave glories that transcend,   
The deeds of heroes dead; then dreams o'ertake   
His tired out brain, and lofty fancies blend   
To one grand theme, and through all barriers break,   
To guard from hurt his faithful sleeping friend. 

  
~ Sydney Oswald ~ 

  
  


* * * * * *

  


**The Dark King**

By: SailorPerfect

Chapter 2: Sorrows of the Battlefield

Abaskira Mountains

Temple of Osiris, Keeper of the Maiden

  
  


Light clouds of incense drifted quietly through the halls of Osiris, the candles that lit the alters bringing a soft glow to the halls glistening in the morning sun. Pillars of white and silver lined the walkway to the alter, the flickering flames creating dancing shadows to move mysteriously against the brilliant white. 

A silence of peacefulness swept through the gentle temple, the raging of the outside world unable to pierce the walls that housed such precious cargo to one so powerful. Here softness and peace reigned, and was kept justly by the one above who cherished the small woman living inside.

Beyond the alter of gold, beyond the halls of silver and white, deeper into her rooms where she had been raised from child into woman she slept, encased in silk and luxury, draped in sleep and dreams. Here she lay atop a bed he had created for her, and here she rested in the early morning hours of the day.

In sleep she moaned, in sleep she tossed and shuddered, sensing the presence of one evil inside her dreams. The sheets tangled about her, her hands fisting into the silk when she felt his breath whisper against her neck. In the shadows she could feel him, and in the darkness he waited, whispering promises to her, temptations she struggled to fight against.

_I see you……_

She whimpered quietly, struggled away from the touch of insidious hands. His whispers crawled across her skin like spiders legs, his voice sending a sharp slice of fear through her belly.

_Are you ready, beautiful one? Are you ready for me?_

Frightened of the unknown, tears gathered and spilled from her, cascading down her temples to pool on the pillow cradling her head. Her arm reared up, her face turning to press and hide itself as she felt the power of him grow, as she felt him nearing closer then he had ever before.

_Prepare for me……..I will have you soon….._

Battles and bloodshed began on the plains of Alexandria, piercing her heart and sending a shaft of pain through her dreams. In this he sent her, in this he showed her what he was capable of. In this she was witness to the evil the world held, an evil she had only recently begun to know.

Trapped in his hold, she watched as death swept his hand across the plains of the earth and left it draped in shadows.

  
  


* * * * * *

Alexandria, Capital City to the Northern Continent of Earth

The Parthicus Alexandrian Guard, Legiones of the Dark King

  
  


Malachite sat atop his stallion, studying the sight of hundreds of soldiers standing before the palace of Alexandria. His eyes swept the formation, analyzing the infantry that lined the front, the archers who stood at the back, more on the battlements of the palace. Cavalry were stationed at either side of the infantry, and he could see the commanding General, Alexander, standing behind the supporting line.

He turned first to Gregori, noted the dark man had positioned his Appolinarians to the south wing, with Kendrick and his Gallicans to the north wing. Julius and his Scythians were to the west, standing as the flank and reserves, enabling him to strike the body of the Barakhan soldiers. He himself formed the front and supporting line, with his Centurions waiting patiently for the command to attack from him.

He glanced at the pale, grey sky, watched the sun that had shone as brilliant as diamonds disappear behind a thick gathering of clouds. He sensed the storm coming, sensed the rapid change in the weather and listened as the wind picked up and seemed to press against his back, almost urging him to make the command. He could feel the temptation for battle, the thirst for combat against his enemies, the desire to strike down those opposed to them. He could feel the lure rising, could almost scent it in the air as his Centurions shifted restlessly, but held and waited still.

He spotted it then, dark eyes following the single arrow that flew into the sky, the flaming tip catching the attention of both armies. Without hesitation he lifted his hand and signaled his front line forward, remaining with the support as the first wave of his Centurions moved ahead.

_Alexander will have his archers attack when we send the first wave. Be prepared for that Malachite._

The Dark King's words drifted through his mind just as he watched the Barakhan archers lift their bows and launch a first wave, the archers on the battlements immediately following. The clean slice through the air was heard by them, but the Centurions were prepared. Lifting their shields, they lifted the large, dome shaped weapons to block themselves, as well as the men behind them. Harmlessly, the arrows pierced the shields, but not the soldiers below them.

The Centurions rose and resumed their positions, marching forward and unsheathing the swords from their sides. With the icy wind picking up and a light drizzle beginning to descend from the pale skies overhead, Alexander motioned his own front line forward to meet them.

_Gregori's archers will eliminate a great majority of the front line. When Alexander makes the command to his front line, give Gregori the signal._

Malachite turned toward Gregori, nodding once to the dark man. With one quick, slashing signal from Gregori, the Appolinarians raised their bow and arrows, aiming and releasing them, the sharp weapons hitting their targets with exact precision. Several dozens of Barakhan soldiers fell instantly, the front line withering away as men were killed or mortally wounded.

Malachite watched the Barakhan soldiers continue forward, and remained still even when the two sides clashed and the battle began. The sound of cold steel striking could be heard, the sound of blades cutting through flesh, the cries of men dying echoing through the countryside. The light drizzle that had begun earlier turned into a steady pouring, and the clouds that had gathered roared with thunder, lightening slicing through the earth and striking near the battlefield.

The Centurions were easily holding, but Malachite knew the Dark King wished for the battle to take place and end as quickly as possible. Motioning to both Gregori and Kendrick to move forward and attack, he took his supporting line forward, unsheathing the sword from his side and riding straight into the thick of battle.

The Barakhans were quickly falling under their might, falling to lay still against the muddy ground beneath them. Alexander had joined his men with the support, sending in the last of their defense, all the while keeping in the back of his mind that Miles still remained waiting within the castle walls.

The fleeting thought drifted vaguely through his mind, just as the sea of bloody men seemed to part and his eyes met Malachite's across the damp plains of Alexandria. Each man recognized the other as General and leader beneath each of their King's, and each recognized the threat both their cunning minds represented. Alexander could see brilliance, strategic war fare in those granite eyes, and a knowledge that they would slaughter him and all his men this day.

The men moved, and Alexander lost him quickly, but he continued his own fierce fighting. But only moments after losing contact with the General, another thought came quickly, sending a sharp slice of terror racing through him.

_With his Generals all here, where then was the Dark King?_

  
  


* * * * * *

One Mile East of the Battlefield

  
  


With the signal sent and the battle echoing to them in the quiet of the forest, Endymion waited patiently and timed his next move. His men remained silent next to him, complete in the trust they held for their King. He knew their impatience to infiltrate the palace was growing, but they kept quiet while he listened to the sounds around them.

He felt it inside of him then, felt the sensation for attack connect quietly, and lifting the sword at his side, shouted to his men, "Remember to hold the line!" with his order said, he kicked his stallion forward, galloping back toward the battlefield and where the entrance of the palace was now left unguarded by the Barakhans.

They raced through the forest, the Dark King remaining at the head with his line beside him. Keeping one hand firmly over the reigns and the other held rigidly by his side with his sword, he broke through the thick of the trees and out into the open plains of the continent, veering back toward the palace and the litter of men battling with one another.

His Generals were fighting with brilliance, their men holding beside them. Alexander had attempted to break through the legiones by springing a trap of men to come in and attack the Parthicus Alexandrian Guard from the sides, therefore nearly overwhelming the ranks and diminishing the number of men in the battle.

The Dark King had known of this, had realized what could and would be done, and had prepared his legiones before hand. With Gregori, Kendrick, and Malachite in the battle, Julius had remained waiting for the attack from both sides to come. When it had his own flank and reserves had marched forward, withholding Alexander's army and eliminating the trap he had strategically planned.

Sweeping his blade through men who stood before him, the Dark King hacked and plunged through bodies, drowning out the cries of men's deaths from his ears. He neither felt nor cared when blood flew and splattered his clothes, mingling with the coursing rain that ran in small rivulets over his face. The death of battle swept through his heart, hardening it against any emotion, a baron of icy vengeance against those opposing him. Grasping the need for violence close, he swept across the earth and forward to the gates of the palace.

  
  


* * * * * *

The Barakhan Palace

  
  


Miles stood at the windows to his rooms, overlooking the vast plains of his city. With his hands laced securely behind his back, he surveyed the battle Alexander had ordered him away from.

It would be the hardest sight he would ever have to take. He had watched, from the beginning, as the two armies had faced one another for moments of silence, one waiting for the move of the other. When he had seen the flaming arrow launched into the sky, he had known the battle would begin.

The Parthicus Alexandrian Guard were skilled soldiers, a legend that was re-known through the whole of earth. These men had been personally trained by the Dark King's Generals, men who were brilliantly efficient in battle.

He watched and was witness too these skills, taken aback at the force the Guard fought with. His men were being slaughtered, although fighting back with the strength of their own might, the legiones of the Dark King would remain standing while his own army diminished into history.

A misery of death swept through his heart, and he tipped his face up to the pale, thundering sky overhead. The grey the clouds had brought with it reflected his own emotions, the pain of seeing and knowing his men would die constricting like a knife through his insides.

What could such miseries bring? What could such death and pain bring to this man, this Dark King? The earth had once been peaceful, with separate nations ruling alongside one another and keeping the peace justly. With the wars the gods had brought merely a memory in men's minds, the future had appeared to be filled with promise and peace.

It was a year ago that the rumors had begun to surface, of an army massing in the corners of the earth, of several thousands of men building under one man determined to eliminate the sole ruling King of earth. Several groups of soldiers had been sent to investigate by the nations, but none of these groups had ever returned.

Anxiety and apprehension had grown, spiraled nearly out of control, until the leaders under the King had wondered what fate would bring with it. As the weeks had passed, the rumors had died down and settled quietly until the leaders and King were once again able to live peacefully.

But the storm had come to them, like a bloody whisper of death's malice, and the murder had come on this night as well. The fate of the earth had been decided in the darkness of midnight, and the King had been murdered, his palace taken over, his lands seized and held by the one leading the rebellion, _The Dark King_.

In a matter of days each nation's leader had been murdered, taken over, the lands confiscated and the people forced to submit to the Dark King's rule. He had changed each nation into continents that suited him, keeping the capital cities and naming them for each continent. He had marked off provinces of land, had sent patrol units to the more rebellious lands, and had created a dictatorship in a matter of weeks.

Miles couldn't remember a day when war had not been an objective for him. With his father's men remaining loyal to him, he had managed to keep an army that could fight against the Dark King and also protect the lands that had been born to him.

His thoughts were interrupted by shouts coming from inside the palace, faint footsteps running down the halls, cries of agony soon following. Turning away from the bloodshed below, he faced the door and kept a calm exterior, although inside his heart was racing with the knowledge that soon he would be meeting the Dark King.

More footsteps came to outside his door, and he heard the shouts of his men as they prepared to defend their lord to the death. The distinctive clash of steel came swiftly, and he listened as they fought with all the strength they possessed.

It was then, when he was certain hope was lost and his own death would follow, that the wall to his far right suddenly moved, seemed to shift, an opening suddenly appearing. Miles stared in utter shock as Alexander stepped out of the passage and into his rooms, smeared with blood and sweat, his bloody sword at his side. His eyes landed on Miles, a wildness the battle had left still remaining in them.

"Alexander-"

He cut off when his head General strode toward him, taking him by the arm and steering him toward the secret passage. "There's no time to explain, my Lord. We must get you out of here before the Dark King breaks through the last of those men."

Miles shook his head, cringed when a man howled in pain outside the doors. "We must help them!"

Alexander shoved him into the passage, glancing once briefly over his shoulder at the door. "They were brave men who knew what they would be sacrificing. Their strength will give you life Miles. Remember that." And stepping in after him, allowed the passage door to quietly slip shut behind them.

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


The battle had been won.

With the bodies of the Barakhas soldiers littering the fields, Malachite directed his men in piling them together to burn the carcasses. His own body ached with numerous wounds and fatigue, but he ignored the discomfort. Several of his men were bloody and cleaved, presently being seen to at the medical facilities they had set up outside the palace. He knew that many would not survive the night.

The Dark King had infiltrated the palace hours ago and had not yet returned. Malachite and the other Generals were busy seeing to the aftermath, but all of them waited still for their liege to emerge from the palace with Miles' body.

Malachite remembered seeing Alexander during the battle, and remembered well the understanding that had passed briefly over the other man's face. The General was not among the bodies on the muddy fields, and he imagined he had escaped before the battle had ended.

He wiped the grime from his face, rubbed deeply at his eyes. This battle had been crucial in the taking over of earth, and had gained them Miles' stronghold. There were still provinces of land in the south of the Alexandrian continent that belonged to Miles, areas they had been unable to conquer as of yet. But the Dark King had not seemed intent on taking these provinces. He had informed them they would take them when the time came.

He glanced briefly at the thick clouds overhead, thankful the rain had ceased at the end of the battle. Night had fallen swiftly, a cold, frosty wind blowing through the countryside, the chilly air hitting them like a cold slap to the face. This weather would soon pass for them. Alexandria was a continent known for its cool days and warm heat.

Murmurs swept through the camp he'd had set up, and he turned to watch the Dark King emerge finally from the palace, several Praetorians following behind their sovereign. His clothes were filthy with mud and blood, his face streaked with sweat, but it was the rage Malachite saw that was frightening. It was thunderous, darkening his features, his eyes black and his nostrils flared as he made his way to his head General.

Malachite suspected the capture he'd planned for Miles had failed. The Praetorians behind him separated, some heading for the food and warm fire at the middle of the camp, others limping for the medical facilities. Just as the Dark King reached him, Kendrick, Julius, and Gregori joined him as well.

"What happened?" Malachite asked him immediately, making sure to keep his expression strictly neutral.

"He was gone." Endymion had already let out a good portion of his rage inside the palace. His Praetorians had watched with horror as he tore apart Miles' empty rooms with his bare hands. "In my plans I was certain he would be in those rooms, but he was gone when I managed to break inside."

The four Generals took this bit of information in silently, each shocked that the Dark King's plan to capture Miles had failed. None of the plans he had ever made had failed.

Kendrick finally broke the heavy silence. "What will we do with the prisoners that have been taken, my Lord?"

"Kill them." Endymion spoke flatly, his expression smoothing into an impenetrable mask. "Miles escapes me, and so none of his men will have the privilege of becoming prisoners of war. Take care of them Kendrick."

With one brief nod, Kendrick left them.

"Julius, see to the men. Make sure their given food and supplies." Malachite ordered him.

Endymion remained silent, contemplating what had taken place inside the rooms. He had sensed the heavy presence of Alexander, and something else he had been unable to see. After calming from his rage, he had attempted to scan the surroundings, but had been unsuccessful in attaining any information.

"My Lord?" this from Gregori, his dark eyes questioning.

Endymion shook himself from his thoughts, focusing in on his Generals. "Take your men Gregori and go to the mountains in the north, to the caves found at the foot of the mountain. Inside you'll find the women and children of Alexandria."

Gregori exchanged a quick glance with Malachite. "Yes, my Lord." He bowed once before leaving them.

Malachite decided not to ask how it was the Dark King knew this. Instead he fell into step beside him as he began walking through the camp. "And what will we do with these women and children?"

"Bring them back to this city. They will populate my reign here." He stopped walking, and with one hand resting on the massive sword at his side, turned to look back at the mountains looming in the far distance. He could see the clouds drifting across the high peaks, could see the snow that covered a good portion of them and left them bathed in white. His eyes narrowed into slits, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he continued to stare at them in silence.

Malachite followed his gaze. "What is it, my Lord?"

"Assemble a group of your Centurions, only the most skilled in combat Malachite." He turned back to face his General, and Malachite was puzzled to find a merciless smirk curving his lips. "I've left the mountains in relative peace since I began my campaign." He mused aloud.

"Yes, you have, my Lord, but what reason will I be assembling my men for?"

"You'll be taking them into the mountains and disposing of any rebels living among the caves there."

Malachite nodded quickly. "Yes, my liege. And what mountains will I be traveling too?"

The Dark King's smile was filled with malice, his eyes darkening, sharpening like the fine edge of a blade. "Abaskira Mountains."

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


With a strangled gasp, she awoke, her hand flying to her throat, her heart racing madly inside her chest. With the cover of darkness surrounding her, she listened to the echoing laughter that had haunted her like an evil promise inside her dreams and doomed her to the knowledge she had struggled to fight against.

_He was coming………_

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


**Last Notes:** At this point I understand many of you may be wondering what's going on, but be patient. Everything will, I promise, be revealed with time.

The one thing I will say is that she, Serenity (I'm changing her name to Serenity instead of Selenity, hope that's ok with everyone) isn't going to be brought down from the mountain in the original form she had been in the other chapters. That much I think is obvious anyway.

I was a little taken back by a review I received the other day, from **je alcheamae**. This is it right here: **'god I hate this story. i don't see why it has 508 reviews. the rewrite isn't any better. you're only doing it for reviews. review-sucking whore.'** Yikes! The hostility here amazed me. I wasn't actually sure what to say to this, I just wish people would actually e-mail me these feelings and tell me personally instead of under an anonymous review. Well anyway, I can understand where this reviewer is coming from and don't condemn him/her in what they think. I just wish people who think this would understand I'm not doing it for more reviews. I'll repeat, yet again, that the purpose of this re-write is to allow the plotline, characters, and descriptions to grow as they should. As for the reviewers feelings of hating the story itself, you're welcome to your own opinion like everyone else in this world is.

So with that minor point out of the way, thank you again to the kind readers and reviewers who remain faithful in the major changes I had take place in this story. If you **_choose_** to leave me a review, please let it be somehow constructively helpful. Those are, to put it simply, the best one's. ~SailorP

_**The Dark King**_ copyright © 9.29.02 by _SailorPerfect_   


_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	4. The Legend of the Maiden

**Author's Note:** I'm struggling to keep my promise of adding a chapter each month for you guys. So here is the next one.

  
  


**He Tells Of the Perfect Beauty**

  
O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,   
The poets labouring all their days   
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme   
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze   
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:   
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew   
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,   
Before the unlabouring stars and you.   


~ W.B. Yeats ~

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


**The Dark King**

By: SailorPerfect

Chapter 3: The Legend of the Maiden

The Borders of Alexandria and Korinthos, Northeast of the Cities

Ten Miles from Abaskira Mountains

  
  


Night had fallen swiftly, descending like a swift strike of the hand, chasing the last rays of the sun away and leaving the countryside bathed in shadows. The moon rose into the darkened sky and cast a steady glow of light across the land, seeping silently across the earth as the spilling froth of the ocean waves.

The forest that bordered between the lands of Alexandria and Korinthos stood as a barrier between the two, marking the terrain that remained one and led off into another. Among these trees Centurion soldiers had built several fires to warm themselves, setting up camp for the night as the large riding distance they had put in that day finally caught up with their weary bodies.

Malachite had his own leather tent set some feet away from his men, slowly roasting the rabbit he had killed for his dinner. He could hear the laughter of his men, the low murmurs and occasional angry retorts. They had been traveling for days, nearly a week, and with little rest. The Dark King had made it known that he wished for them to go into the mountains, dispose of what they could, and bring back whatever it was they found as well as soon as possible.

Malachite had planned for he and his men to leave the night after the battle for Alexandria, giving his men twenty four hours of rest before relying on them to yet again travel across the country. Before departing, the Dark King had pulled him aside, his dark face pensive, a frown marring his brow. Malachite had been curious as to what could have caused his liege to pace for a few moments in the outer recesses of the camp, his movements agitated.

When he had finally spoken, his tone had been harsh and brisk with authority. "I've already told you to bring back whatever you may find." He took a breath, and when he turned to face his General, his eyes were as cold as frost, and edged with a distinct warning. "Do not touch whatever you find. Any prisoners belong to me and will therefore be brought to me unharmed."

He had been a little surprised at the request, but had quickly complied. He had returned and ordered his men to move out, leaving the camp in the thick of the night, heading for the looming mountains of Abaskira.

In silence he took the roasted rabbit from the stick he'd set atop the fire, taking a healthy bite of the warm meat. It had been hours since he'd eaten, and the hunger he felt he doubted the small rabbit would quench easily.

His thoughts drifted to the mountains they traveled too, to the odd request the Dark King had made of him. It was as if he knew they would find a prisoner, as if he knew they would come across something or someone. What was it that gave his King the power to know and see where no normal man ever could?

He glanced at the towering shadows of the mountain, skimming his gaze across the high peaks and considering them for a moment. What was it those mountains held that could interest the Dark King so much? Malachite knew it had be something of great importance, something he considered valuable and would not allow any other to harm. But what could it be?

He decided he would have to wait and see. Perhaps he was making too much of a simple request from his sovereign. Perhaps when they finally did go into these mountains they would find nothing but rebels hiding in the caves.

But deep inside his heart, he knew his instincts were right.

The night grew later, and much darker, and soon all of his men were encased inside their tents, sleeping soundly. The fires they'd built had all been put out, the surrounding darkness enclosing them like a fine, silken cloak of black. The only light he could now see by was the light from the moon.

He was restless this night, toying instead with a jeweled dagger that had belonged to him since he was a child. As the dark, blood red jewels winked teasingly against the moon's soft reflections, he remembered vaguely a story he'd often heard from his mother as a child.

His memories where his family was concerned were minimal. What he remembered more were emotions, images and voices. The fact that a simple story of legend and myth had remained with him when no other memories had always baffled him.

He recalled settling himself at her feet as she sewed by the warmth of the fire in their small home, remembered watching her small hands work quickly and efficiently at the needlework she'd had in her lap. Her eyes had been kind, her voice soothing and gentle. The story she'd told had been just as soothing, and intriguing to him as well.

She had spoken of a time when only gods had lived, when only gods had reigned and ruled the lands of the earth. In time they had created men, and watched with satisfaction as their creations grew with life and knowledge. And as the years went by, these gods came to realize they would soon be leaving the earth itself to be ruled by their own creations, retreating into the mystical lands known as Telhatas.

Time had passed, many hundreds of years, and only two gods had remained. One had found a woman, a single woman living among the mortals of the world, who had been blessed with the immense beauty only a god should be bestowed with. Taking it upon himself to cherish this woman, he had taken her from the mortal lands and placed her in the mountains, where he would watch over and protect her, and she would also grow to respect and cherish him as well. She would serve as a mediator, a gatekeeper between mortal men and this god. In her generation after generation of maidens would be born, to be loved and honored by him.

_The Silvery Maiden of Osiris_. He recalled the name now, the name his mother had given to him. She was legend, a woman so immensely beautiful and pure that no man had the right to look upon or even touch her. It was why this god, Adonis, had taken the first Maiden and placed her away from the spoils of men. He had found his purpose in her.

He rubbed a hand down his face, pausing briefly to press deeply into his eyes. The story of the Silvery Maiden was well known, but spoken of as a myth much as the gods that had once roamed the earth and created men. People spoke of her, wondered and were in awe of her, but did not for one moment believe the story could be true.

But even as he scoffed at the idea of her, he wondered with some curiosity at what the mountains of Abaskira would hold.

  
  


* * * * * *

Alexandria, Capital City to the Northern Continent of Earth

  
  


The fields that stretched like silent fingers across the plains of the city were green as gems, and glistened with the morning dew that settled quietly along the rich earth. The sun had emerged as strong and brightly as diamonds that day, and warmed the chilly breeze that remained after the long night of cold. With the warmth of early spring here and the spreading of a new day, soldiers rose and patrolled, peasants worked and sweated, and established the steady rhythm that came with the passing of each day.

The life that had once reigned in Alexandria was now changed dramatically by the presence of the Dark King and the Parthicus Guard. Soldiers daily patrolled the borders of the lands, set up at strategic points that the Dark King saw as weak, where they could still suffer an attack from unsuspecting invaders. His Generals each sent men to protect what they could, and worked daily to provide the offense their king asked of them.

The taking of Alexandria had taken a large amount of the Dark King's time, with preparations and plans, with war tactics and the careful placement of men. After several long months of attacking Miles' men, of pecking at them and diminishing the protection that had served to stop the Parthicus Guard, he had surged forward and taken the final stronghold of Miles, driving him into the cold, remote lands of Korinthos.

He had been up with the sun that morning, taking his stallion out into the open hills that rolled as gently as the waves of the ocean. With his hands held rigid over the reigns, he directed his stallion away from the palace he had left behind, galloping steadily across the land, the wind whipping like the stroke of steady fingers through his dark hair.

He now ruled a huge portion of the known earth. With Numidia, Ramadan, and now Alexandria held by him, he was rapidly gaining the power he had craved all his life, but satisfaction was a far off way for him yet. Miles still held Korinthos, and small portions of Alexandria littered near the borders that ran between the two continents. He would not be fully satisfied until Miles was dead, his men defeated, and the earth belonged solely to him.

He wasn't fool enough not to realize that Miles still gained supporters in some areas of the earth. People were terrified of him, of the dynasty he was creating, of the absolute, tyrannical rule that had accompanied his take over. With fear there was the assurance of obedience. With courage, there was the threat of retaliation.

His own army of men were by the tens of thousands, positioned with accuracy to guard what he had conquered thus far. If Miles could continue to gather enough supporters to him with the skill and knowledge to fight, then what he had gained so far would become an easy target for them to take back.

But he was always one step ahead of them. He knew what they planned even before they thought it. He knew what they would do and how they would react before they had a chance too. As long as he kept himself above them, they would have no chance of rising to take their lands back.

The morning progressed, heated and warmed by the steady glare of the sun, teased occasionally by a light, cooling breeze. Jerking back on the reigns, he came to an abrupt halt, to where his vision was no longer obscured by forests and misty clouds, to where a full view of Abaskira Mountains was presented in the shining brilliance of the early sun. With the consistent glow encompassing the great mountains, he allowed his stallion to rest and gazed thoughtfully at the peaks before him.

He estimated that Malachite and his men were not yet there. The distance between Alexandria and those mountains was too great for them to have reached it so quickly. But since his instructions had been for them to make the journey as quickly as possible, he imagined they would arrive within the next two days.

And what would he find, he mused quietly. What would present itself to his head General? What would he do when the mystery was revealed and he could see what it was he had been sent for?

His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching against what could be done. The hands that held the reigns of the stallion tightened with brutal strength, and inside a steady flow of rage raced through his blood. If Malachite valued his own life, he would heed the warning he had issued him before he left and bring back what he found untouched.

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


While the morning drew on and the Dark King kept himself immersed in Alexandria's lands, Gregori personally oversaw the training of the men. Kendrick had left early that morning to see to a group of unruly peasants on the southern province who had attempted a retaliation against the soldiers stationed there. Julius was in a meeting with several first lieutenants who they would be sending to see to the areas in Alexandria still held by Miles. Julius had instructed the first lieutenants to prepare their units before the meeting began and inform them they would be moving out in less then an hour.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Gregori kept a steady vigilance on the present training, watching with a critical eye as several soldiers battled against one another. This was where they learned what could come in battle, when the unexpected could happen, and the defense as well as offense they were expected of.

In the former years when their army had consisted of merely the Dark King, the four Generals, and several simple soldiers, they had all trained and learned what would be necessary for them under the Dark King. The man had seemed to have been born with the immense knowledge to fight. He had instructed them carefully in the ways of handling a blade, a bow and arrow, a dagger, and their own bare fists if necessary. He had not tolerated weakness in them and forced them to train their bodies and minds to be able to take days without sleep or nourishment, until he felt they were well enough trained to be able to fight alongside him.

Gregori knew that the Dark King and Malachite had known one another since they were young children, and he had often wondered what his lord had been like in those early years. What could have shaped him into the man he was, what could have given him the need to feel and want such power from the whole of earth? What was it that drove the dark, deep ambitions he held?

He wondered if Malachite himself understood the man. Even with years of comradeship between them, he highly doubted the head General understood where the thirst for more power and gain could come from.

Julius emerged from the meeting and joined him in the courtyard of the palace, having a quick, brief word with the first lieutenants before allowing them to disperse and leave the two men alone. He turned to watch the training for a long moment, then glanced back at Gregori.

"Kendrick hasn't returned?" Julius asked quietly, watching as a young soldier handled himself well in a fierce combat.

"No, he hasn't. I expect he should be arriving soon."

"And Endymion?"

"He hasn't returned all morning either." The fact that their king had disappeared was no surprise. He most usually did and none of them had the authority to ask where it was he went. "He's been restless for Malachite's return."

Julius frowned deeply. "Why would he be waiting with such obsession for Malachite to return? He's never shown such interest in any of the missions he's sent us on before."

Gregori raised one hand, signaling for the training to momentarily halt and the men to rest. "I have an odd feeling he expects something—or someone—to return with Malachite."

Julius turned his sharp frown toward the other dark man. "What?"

"It was something Malachite and I spoke on briefly before he left for the mountains." Gregori moved his shoulders restlessly. "He warned Malachite that whatever was found was to be brought back untouched."

"As if he already knew." Julius cocked a dark brow, his tone mild with wonder and surprise. "Perhaps our king does know something we do not."

"Why should that surprise us now?" Gregori motioned for the men to begin training once again. "He always has. It's what aids our victories in battle."

"I know that, but haven't you ever wondered how it is he could know such things before they take place?" Julius watched Gregori's expression, watched the quick flicker pass through the dark eyes. "You have wondered, haven't you?"

"And what sane man wouldn't?" Gregori shot back, frustrated. "But it's not in our right to question his methods. What he knows remains his alone."

"Your right, of course." Julius fell silent, contemplating their king and the dark powers that surrounded the man. "Perhaps one day the mystery will reveal itself and we will wish we had taken ignorance to knowledge."

Gregori didn't respond, instead continued watching the training progress, but in his silence Julius could hear the quiet agreement to what he'd said.

  
  


* * * * * *

Abaskira Mountains

  
  


At the foot of the mountain Malachite ordered his Centurions to tether the horses and bring only their weapons. These mountains were much too steep and treacherous. Bringing the horses would be useless and only bring danger to themselves.

They set out to climb them carefully, cautious of the steep incline and slippery dirt and rocks beneath them. There was no path that could lead them up into the deeper recesses of the mountains and so Malachite, having taken the lead, created a path himself, ordering his men to follow directly behind him.

They had arrived at the mountains early in the afternoon, but already one hour of climbing had passed and the day had changed to when the sun was slowly making its final descent of the day and the dark fought for it's own control over the land. Malachite struggled to hurry up the mountain, hoping to cover much of the sloped terrain before the sun deserted them for sleep.

His muscles screamed at him for rest, but his mind forged on, ignoring the sweat that trickled down his brow, the fatigue that beat at his eyes. A sudden determination to ascend this mountain and find what the Dark King had known was here was suddenly upon him.

Higher they went, until they were among the mists that were the clouds, their breathing labored, they're pants emerging in small gusts of frost. He couldn't see through the thick mists, couldn't see where it was he was going, but it seemed his instincts led him now, and he followed them with complete trust as he always had.

A sharp wind swept through the mists, a cold, frosty current that swirled about them and seemed to howl in deep warning. Lifting his head and squinting his eyes against the dense fog, the winds suddenly parted the veil of mists and revealed the outline of a large temple up ahead.

He was a man accustomed to surprises, and paid little heed to the quick racing his heart had leapt to the moment the temple came into sight. He moved forward steadily, through the river of fog that seemed intent on blocking him, and forward to the temple that revealed itself more clearly now as they neared.

A small path appeared at they approached, and he took it as he kept a wary eye on his surroundings, waiting for an attack. His hand was kept at his sword in preparation, and he made a slashing motion with his hand to warn his men to be prepared themselves.

But only the chilly breeze moved here, only the quiet whistle of wind that teased at the heavy fog and sent it moving gently along their tense bodies. He sensed no danger, and just a bit confused, walked the last of the remaining distance to the temple doors.

The temple was large, with arch's that ran on either side of it and beautifully stained glass windows glowing against the darkness of the night that had fallen. He could see a small glow coming from inside, signaling someone lived in this isolated place.

His mind raced with possibilities, with suspicions of why a temple would be in the middle of the high mountains. Yet even as the muscles of his back tensed, he reached a hand forward and pushed at the temple doors, remaining back when they gave gently, sliding smoothly open.

With his sword poised at his side, he inched inside the temple, his eyes quickly adjusting to the flickering glow several candles along the sides created. The temple was bare, the floor beneath them smooth as marble, a cool blue like the floor of the ocean, the walls a shimmering white that radiated against the dark. The quiet of the building engulfed he and his men, and the only sounds were those of there quiet footsteps.

He made his way closer to the alter, and noted that it was made of pure gold, the soft, shining treasure winking almost teasingly at them. A bit taken back by this, he swept his gaze beyond the alter before him and scanned the large, deeper recesses of the room, his gaze falling on an opening that led into a hallway to the far left of the alter.

He signaled four of his men to remain within the front of the temple and keep watch, taking the remaining four with him into the hallway. Simple candles burned along the walls, illuminating their figures and causing their shadows the dance as they moved. He could scent a soft fragrance now, could scent something sweet and alluring as he moved further down, to where he could see a single doorway at the end of the hall, the door ajar.

And even as the scent wrapped around his senses, the male inside recognized the scent of a female immediately.

At the doorway he jerked his head to his men, the silent command for them to wait as he took a quick assessment of the room. He slipped inside silently, stealthily, and his dark gaze moved over every aspect of the room quickly, pausing and locking onto the bed that rested in the middle of the room, lacy, white curtains drawn together about the magnificent bed.

The room itself was beautiful, and clearly belonged to a female. The softness of the atmosphere was enchanting, the drifting scent he had noted more strong now that he was inside. Approaching the bed slowly, his eyes seeking to see past the transparent curtains, his entire being froze when his hard gaze landed on what lay so still atop the bed.

For one long moment he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, as the blood seemed to drain from his head and shoot like rapid fire straight to his loins. The expression of hard concentration faded, melted away, to be replaced by pure astonishment, his mind numb of any thought.

And in one split second her eyes opened, eyes of smoky blue clashing with glittering obsidian. He felt his heart stutter, felt his tight grip on his sword loosen and the weapon fall to clatter heavily on the ground, the sound like echoing thunder in the silence of the room.

_It was her…….._

He stared in utter silence, transfixed. And lost his heart, his mind.

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


She had been found. He knew it, could feel it, could almost taste it. The urgency inside of her was strong, the confusion brief, but it was the fear that beat like a steady drum against her heart.

She was his now. She would belong to him. His victories would mean nothing without her at his side.

And in the heavy shadows of the dark, he swore with a ferocious fury that no one would take her from him.

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


In his state of shock he had watched in silence as she had scrambled up, forgetting to take the silk sheets to cover herself, and cornered herself against the large bedpost, her small form trembling with fear. Her eyes were huge and on him, watching warily much as a small doe watched a predator who stalked her.

She was…….._perfect_, absolutely perfect. She was enchanting, alluring, magnificent, beautiful, erotic. He couldn't seem to think of enough words that could describe her immense, haunting beauty.

She had yards of cascading silvery hair, the ends curling wildly against her waist, the soft glow of the moon making the silvery strands appear almost white. Her eyes were almond shaped, slanting just slightly at the ends, the color like the fog that settled itself gently over the ocean, a smoky blue fringed with long, thick lash's. Her nose and lips were small in shape, made only more enchanting by the sharp slash of cheekbones covered by smooth, ivory skin. But it was the lancing, dark brows that made her erotic and dispelled the touch of innocence she carried, giving her eyes the look of a sorceress who knew the power she wielded over the weak race of men.

It took him some time to come back to himself, moments of silence that ticked by with only her labored breaths filling the quiet room. When sense and reason managed to seep through the thick fog of pulsing desire veiling his better judgment, he was mortally ashamed he had left her to watch him in such fear for so long.

He took a step forward, but halted when she hunched more into the corner. Cautious, raising his hands and holding them up as a peace offering, he spoke and made sure to keep his voice even and calm. "I won't hurt you."

His tone was husky, as if the sight of her had robbed him of his powers of speech. He cleared his throat, and when he was met with silence, repeated what he'd said. "I won't hurt you."

Still she wouldn't respond, continuing to watch his every movement. Struggling to overcome the roaring desire that had possessed him at the sight of her, he shut his eyes and prayed for strength.

In that instant the sound of the Dark King's warning came back full force, as if the man himself knew of the weakening resolve of his head General.

_"Do not touch whatever you find. Any prisoners belong to me and will therefore be brought to me unharmed."_

Duty and honor had his back stiffening, had him shoving desire and a sudden, consuming love aside, and he strode forward to take her.

Her screech surprised him, but only made him pause momentarily. He thrust the filmy curtains aside, reaching out and taking a firm grip on her arm, dragging her from the protection of her bed and before him.

He ignored the temptation of her, ignored the softness of her flesh beneath his hard palm, ignored the scent that drifted to him and maddened him. His other hand came up and gripped both her arms, holding her struggling form still.

"Who are you?" he asked it sharply, his eyes locked to hers. He could see the wildness of fear there, and although it sickened him to know he was the cause of it, he followed through with his orders. "Who are you?" he asked it more loudly, shaking her enough to have her head snapping back.

"Let me go!" the soft voice was just as smoky and beautiful as her, and he could feel his belly tighten in silent response.

"I asked you a question." He brought her forward against him, and she gasped quietly when the softness of her body came into contact with the hard steel of his. "Now answer me."

For a moment he thought she would spit on him, that she would demand her release again, but when she spoke her voice was suddenly calm. "My name is Serenity, the Maiden of Osiris."

He stared at her, his grip over her arms tightening without his realizing it. His gaze searched hers, intense, and he saw with a sudden jolt that she told the truth.

Even as his mind rebelled, his heart knew the truth of her words. Carefully, slowly, he loosened his grip over her arms, but kept a firm enough grip so she couldn't get away. In silence, he contemplated his options.

The legend was true. That much was certain. He wasn't fool enough not to admit that to himself. The proof surrounded him, but more importantly stood right before his eyes.

But even he knew he had no options. His orders had been precise and he was to follow them through. He was now certain of what this mission had been for, although he wondered how it was the Dark King had known she would be here.

His gaze wondered down her lightly clad body, lingered on the small, ivory breasts that clung to the silk nightgown she wore. He swallowed and spoke with deliberate authority. "You are now the prisoner of the Dark King. Your fate and future will be decided forthwith by him."

Their eyes held, and in the ensuing silence he could see the fire of rebellion in her sultry gaze. "We will see."

He couldn't help when his eyes slid over her, growing darker, hotter as he took in the sight of her. "Pack what things you will need. You have five minutes before we move out." He released her, and she stumbled back at her sudden unexpected freedom.

He watched as she realized what she wore, watched with some amusement as she raced for the closet in her room and tore it open, snatching a silver robe out and quickly donning it. When she whirled to face him, the fire had leapt into burning flames.

"If you dare to take me from this temple, your life will be forfeit. Adonis will murder you for this." She said it quietly, with utter conviction.

His expression didn't waver, and although he felt a small unease, he wouldn't relent. "As you said, we will see." His smile was slow and mocking.

Glaring at him, she crossed her arms over her breasts. "You cannot force me to go."

He cocked a brow, amused. "Can't I?" he bent slowly and picked up his sword, bringing it to point up at her, watching as the defiance drained and fear replaced it. "Choose whether you will go freely or be tied and bound."

He watched her emotions flit over her face, wondering how it was such a woman could have remained hidden away from the world for so long. Considering the legends were true, she had been completely isolated from men her entire life.

He felt a small stab of guilt that he would tear her from her home, from the only place she had known, but he could not return without her. He wasn't certain how, but he knew if he didn't bring her with him, the Dark King might very well murder him for it.

His own emotions would have to be put on hold at the moment, his own fierce desire's and hopes. She didn't belong to him and she more then likely never would. This woman was the Dark King's prisoner, and her fate was now in his hands.

But he couldn't help the surge of emotion that gripped him when her small shoulders sagged in defeat.

He left her alone only momentarily, emerging to give a quick, brief explanation to his men of what he had found and that they were not to touch or harm her. Clearly confused, his men all nodded immediate agreement, and he ordered one of the Centurions who had remained outside the door of her room to brief the others waiting in the temple halls.

When he walked back inside she was shutting her trunk, a small case lined with both silver and gold, weaved intricately together. She now wore a simple gown of clinging white that left her shoulders bare, a snaking band tied securely about her upper arm, a thick, fur lined coat held together by a gold band at her neck wrapped about her intriguing little body. She had taken her long, thick hair and tied it back at the nape of her neck, allowing it to flow like cool water down her back, curling wildly at the ends. She looked magnificent, her sorceress eyes rising to meet his, her jaw clenched with anger at what they forced on her.

He wondered briefly if his life would indeed be forfeit for this act against Adonis.

He took the trunk himself and led her outside, making sure to keep himself between her and his men. He wasn't surprised when his men stared and gaped for several long moments, and found some amusement when she glared at them as well and snapped why they were staring at her. Chuckling beneath his breath, he sharply ordered his men to move out.

They were met with the heavy, dense fog outside, with an ice cold, frosty breeze that caused Serenity to shiver in the thick fur coat she wore. Surrounded by Malachite's Centurions, she was led further down the path.

Walking silently, they merged with the fog, with the night, and proceeded down the path Malachite had created earlier, toward the man who impatiently awaited her arrival.

  
  


* * * * * *

  
  


**Last Notes:** First I'd like to point out that this chapter was much longer then the other's and I hope you guys enjoyed that. There isn't much for me to explain so far, the story is progressing at the exact pace I'd like for it. As you can see we're nearing to where the original story takes place, but remember, this version will be different in several ways when Serenity and Endymion finally do meet. You guys will have to wait and see what it is I mean.

Now if you enjoyed what you read and hope for more very soon, please leave me a review telling me what you thought. It would be greatly appreciated from you guys since I'm coming through with my promise to add one chapter a month. =) ~SailorP

_**The Dark King**_ copyright © 9.29.02 by _SailorPerfect_   


_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	5. Awaken the Enchantress

**Author's Note:** Here is the next chapter to The Dark King. I realize I made a promise of adding a chapter every month for this fic, but things just never work out how you plan for them too. At least not for me. So the best I can say at this point for this story, for all my stories in that case, is that I will add to them when I can. I won't be letting you guys know what I'm working on and when I'm adding it because I don't want to be disappointing you guys repeatedly. So on to the story and please do enjoy!

  
  


**Part Three: Love**

**LII**

  
  
HE touched me, so I live to know   
That such a day, permitted so,   
I groped upon his breast.   
It was a boundless place to me,   
And silenced, as the awful sea   
Puts minor streams to rest.   
  
And now, I 'm different from before,   
As if I breathed superior air,   
Or brushed a royal gown;   
My feet, too, that had wandered so,   
My gypsy face transfigured now   
To tenderer renown. 

Emily Dickinson 

  
  
**:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::**

**The Dark King**

By: SailorPerfect

Chapter 4: Awaken the Enchantress

Korinthos, Capital City to the Southern Continent of Earth

Last Existing Stronghold of Miles, Lord of Barakhas

  
  
Korinthos was a continent known for its harsh winters and endless nights. The sun shone little in this continent where humanity did not wish to reside. The winters were brutal here, the summers hardly better, and so left the peasants fleeing instead to much warmer climates. Many fled to the central city of Earth, Ramadan. 

It had been a little over a week since the taking of Alexandria and their own defeat. They had lost more men then Alexander would have believed in a battle that had not even lasted so long. When they had gathered on the borders of Korinthos to account the men who had survived, he had been shocked by the massively dwindled number.

Of course to him the main importance had been the survival of Miles. Miles was their last remaining hope in this fight against tyranny and aggression. If he were to perish, so then would hope and any dreams they had of conquering the Dark King one day.

Here in Korinthos the central palace was lined by large pillars and walls that stood as a shield against the savage winds and also invading armies. It was said to have been built by one of the gods in the past, who had sworn upon himself that no army would ever breech the walls of his creation. Alexander dearly hoped that legend was true, for one day it would be put to the test.

In the time that had passed since their defeat at Alexandria, Alexander had gathered his Lieutenants to him and ordered them to search the borders of Alexandria, where they still held some patches of land, provinces where peasants resided and were loyal to Miles. Their instructions had been clear: to gather more men to their cause, and instruct those still living in Alexandria to do the same. Their men were small in number, a pittance in comparison to the Dark King's existing army. If the Dark King were to strike them now, they would be powerless against his assault.

Briefly Alexander wondered why it was the Dark King had not yet attacked them. The man must know they were at their weakest point now and if he wanted victory swiftly, the present time was the best to take that.

Perhaps arrogance led him to hold back, to wait and see if Miles could assimilate more men to him and give them a battle worth fighting. Or perhaps he was much too busy with bringing order under Alexandria after their take over there. It was obvious something held the Dark King's attention at the present time, Alexander only hoped it lasted long enough to give them a fighting chance against his armies.

He stood overlooking the endless white plains of Korinthos, heedless of the fierce winds that whipped through his fur lined coat and heavy armor. The stallion he rode moved restlessly, tossing his head, sensing the coming of a new storm. A new sadness crept into his heart as he watched peasants flee for their homes, for the small warmth they would find. These people who lived in Korinthos stayed for Miles and the allegiance they had sworn to him. Their loyalty may very well cost them their lives this winter.

Because he could see a storm drifting in, hailing more cold and disaster, he spurred his stallion ahead to the gates of the palace, ordering the peasants brought in for protection and the heavy gates closed against the onslaught that was about to come to them.

Once he had seen to his stallion, he entered the warmth of the palace and strode through the vast halls, to the second story where he knew Miles resided in his offices.

He paused before entering, knocking and waiting respectfully for his Lord and friend to grant him entry. "Enter, please."

He pushed the heavy doors open, shutting them quietly behind him. Miles sat at his desk, several maps of the Earth spread around him, charts and statistics littered next to them. Alexander knew he worried daily over the lives of the peasants in Korinthos, and also those still in the numerous provinces in Alexandria. Both were in danger, of starvation or attack.

"My father once told me Alexander, of a story, a legend really, of two gods who had remained on earth after the other gods had departed, and fought for control over what both wished to dominate and possess." Miles spoke without looking up, keeping his attention on what he had before him.

Alexander knew the story well, as any mortal man did. "Yes, the legend is known to me."

"Yes, and do you remember the story of the Silvery Maiden of Osiris, the one woman no mortal man could ever behold?" Miles ran his quill swiftly over his charts, not pausing once.

A slight frown creased Alexander's brow. "Yes, of course. Every man knows of this story."

"But what most men don't know is the curse she carries with her." Miles halted and finally raised his eyes to meet his Generals. "My father told me that ordinary men were to never know of the curse. It was a tale really, a myth related as much to her existence. But the curse was such that if any man was to take her from the god, Adonis, he would suffer the damnation of hell's fire and face the wrath of this glorious god."

Alexander remained silent for a moment, taking in this bit of information. "Adonis is a god known for his superb beauty, is he not?"

"That is true. But he is also known for his black temper, and thirst to have more power then any of the other gods. There is a balance among them, you see. Adonis standing as the light, with the darkness within, and the other who remained on this earth with him standing as the darkness on either side. While each of them lives, neither will ever dominate the earth." Miles leaned back from his desk, placing his hands atop the desk and folding them calmly together. "The Maiden, the one who quenched Adonis' terrible thirst for blood and power, anchor's him with her perfection and light. If she were to be touched, Adonis would awaken."

Alexander knew these to be myth's and legends, stories to be told to the young, but the steadiness of Miles' gaze unnerved and worried him. "My Lord, forgive my rudeness, but I feel you are trying to reach a point I cannot see with this tale."

Miles' laugh was low and amused. "Yes, of course I am. I forget how frank you prefer to be at times Alexander." He tapped his fingers against his desk slowly. "I dreamt last night of a woman. I couldn't see her face, she was draped in so much beautiful light it was blinding, but I knew she was this maiden. She stood between two worlds, a symbol of hope and beauty, until she was wrenched to one side and smothered in darkness."

When Miles didn't continue, Alexander raised one dark brow. "A dream, my Lord?"

"I knew you'd manage to make me feel like a fool without really trying." Miles shook his head, smiling slightly. "A dream meant as a warning. Alexander, I could see her taken by the Dark King. And just as she was, I felt a terrible anger awaken, a fury stronger then any I've ever encountered, and turn itself upon him." He stood and paced around the desk. "But what I couldn't understand was _how_ she could have been taken without Adonis' knowledge. No mortal man could trespass into his mountains without awakening him."

Alexander knew Miles took his dreams quite seriously, and decided to indulge his lord. "Unless the mortal man had the favor of the gods."

Miles glanced up at him quickly, his mind working on that single statement. "Your right. Only the gods could ever play tricks against each other. But why would the Dark King be in favor with them?"

Alexander sighed. "My Lord, these thoughts of yours worry me. Perhaps it would be better to keep to the present tasks at hand and see to gathering more men to protect these lands. The Dark King could very well attack us any day."

It took him a moment, but he lifted his hand at last and rubbed deeply at his eyes, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Your right Alexander, as always. My dreams have been troubled in these past days, more so then usual. I feel as if something that will change the course of the earth's history is happening as we speak." He laughed softly. "Listen to me, speaking in riddles. I think it is time we directed our attention to more pressing matters."

Alexander was pleased that his lord had finally stopped to think on their present situation, but couldn't miss the deeply set frown between his brows, or the vague attention he was giving him as they went over the maps of the earth's continents.

He himself wondered if perhaps Miles' dreams were indeed true and held a more profound meaning then they were led to believe.

  
  


**:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::**

Rhumedian, Eastern Province of the Alexandrian Continent

Seven Miles South of the Central City of Alexandria

  
  
The eastern province of Alexandria was a city known for its prosperous trades and wealthy populous. The merchants here gathered the finest poultry, meats, salts and spices, as well as silks and jewels. The Rhumedian city was filled with wealth and the promise of the earth's future. 

Malachite had decided to pass through the city instead of around it. They had been riding for three days, making camp each night and sleeping among the bitter cold that seeped across the land. He was accustomed to this, his men were accustomed to this, but he knew Serenity was not. They had to halt several times during the day, allowing her to relax, the men giving her most of the bread and cheese they had packed for themselves. She took it reluctantly, but still managed to thank them despite her situation. Malachite felt himself fall more deeply into the spell she had woven over him with each passing moment.

He knew what he was doing was completely uncalled for, but he couldn't help himself. He knew Endymion would be furious by the fact that he was indulging the soft side she provoked in him and showing her a world she had never seen.

But even he knew that he could never allow her into a city with so many men alert and watching during the day, and so led them through at night, when the people were in their homes resting for the night, and he would have no fear of a kidnapping attempt for her.

He found them lodging easily enough, and couldn't help the pleasure she gave him when he saw the relief and the gratefulness for him in her eyes. He had learned in the past days that although she was angry for her being taken from her home, she was also a woman who could not hold a hardened resolve for long. Most days she spoke with him, asking him of the earth's people and history. She was curious to know of the other gods who existed, a bit surprised that they did. She had thought in her temple that only Adonis ruled this world and the next.

They sat and had dinner in the inn, the room empty and silent but for them. His men excused themselves the moment they were finished with their meal, leaving them alone and him feeling edgy with the knowledge that tomorrow they would reach Alexandria and the Dark King.

He knew what Endymion would do with her when he saw her. He knew it, the same as his men did, but unlike them felt anger and jealousy, a possessiveness he had never thought he had. He had been tempted, sorely tempted, to take her with him and ride away, far and deep into the earth, where they would never be found.

But even he knew that no matter where he took her, the Dark King would find them and murder him without a moment's hesitation.

He watched her eat in silence, admiring the smooth glow of her flesh against the flickering lights of the inn. Although he was no longer reduced to a fumbling fool at the sight of her, he still felt his heart stutter and his pulse race whenever those sorceress eyes met his directly.

He had noted on their first day together that she had a curious tattoo on her right shoulder blade, against the smooth perfection of her back. It was a Celtic cross, with a single beam of light circling. He had glimpsed it when the blazing sun had turned the early afternoon into sweltering heat, and she had removed her fur lined cloak. The clinging white gowns she wore left her arms bare, and as she had ridden her mare, the sleeve of her gown had slipped away, revealing the tattoo.

He had been fascinated by it, staring until she had adjusted the sleeve and covered it once again. She had noticed his gaze, but pointedly ignored it, keeping her own eyes fixed on the road they held.

After some time she halted in eating her dinner, raising her eyes to meet his. She cocked one those dark brows, and made his pulse beat strongly with desire at how alluring the simple act made her.

"What is it?" Her voice was soft, but exotically tempting. He felt his hands curl into fists atop the table.

He took his time responding, making sure he wouldn't stumble over his words as he most usually did with her. "I wonder of your tattoo. Is it a symbol of your god?"

She kept her eyes directly on his for some time, making him shift uncomfortably. There were times when the steadiness of her gaze, the intensity made him wonder if she could read his very thoughts.

When she spoke at last her voice was smooth, unreadable. "It is." Lacing her fingers together atop the table, she kept her gaze directly on his.

He could feel his heart pound inside his chest, could feel his mouth run dry as she kept those eyes topped by slashing dark brows on him. He knew that he would have to rid himself of these emotions before they reached the Dark King or else his sovereign would notice them.

But even he wasn't fool enough to realize this love that was growing inside of him would ever be something he could be rid of.

Remaining calm despite the furious beating of his heart, he took up his cup and sipped the cool ale within. "When did you receive it?"

"I didn't. I was born with it."

He placed his cup carefully on the table, frowning sharply as he stared at her. "Born with it? A tattoo is received, not born with."

"Yes, of course it is. That is what _you_ think. However, I was born with this and will die with it as well."

"Was it an heirloom then? Something passed from mother to daughter over the years of your existence?" Malachite mused it aloud, curious by her confession.

Her eyes locked to his, and he saw the beginnings of annoyance there. "No, my mother did not have it. She told me--," she paused, eyed him suspiciously for one long moment, then tossed her silvery hair over her shoulder and turned away from him. "The hour is late. Could I be shown to my rooms, please?"

He wanted to ask her more of her life in the temple, he wanted to know what it was her mother had told her of the tattoo, but he bit back his impatience and instead rose from the table. Once she was safely inside her rooms he went to his own, where he laid to rest and struggled to fight back the dreams that came of her. It was longing and love that drove them through his mind when he was at his weakest, images of her telling him she loved him, images of her welcoming him and no other.

But they were dreams, and even trapped inside of them, his heart despaired for what could never be.

  
  
**:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::**

Alexandria, Capital City to the Northern Continent of Earth

  
  
His patience was at an end. 

Malachite and his Centurions had been gone for ten days now. For the last two he had been watching for them, impatient for their return. He knew that his Head General had to have indulged his soft side for the prisoners and allowed them rest on their return. There was no other explanation that could account for the length of time it was taking for them to come back.

It was the early afternoon in the city, and he stood over the battlements of the palace, overlooking the spread of Alexandria before him. The sun shone brilliantly today, sweeping away any cold winds that might linger. He could see the peasants going about their daily lives, minding their crops in the fields littered before him, the women hanging out the wash for the sun to dry, the little one's running about the green pastures with their laughter trailing lightly behind them.

The days in this city were peaceful, he mused as he stood straight and tall, with his hands folded tightly behind his back. A small teasing wind swept over him, brushing softly at the black, unruly hair that reached nearly his shoulders. His skin was a deep bronze, acquired from birth and also gained by numerous days spent in the sun, his eyes a deep, almost violent opaque. There was a small scar marring the near perfection of his features, over his left brow. But even such a small scar could not take away from the savage beauty he held.

He continued his silent vigilance over the city, watching as his legions patrolled the fields, causing the peasants to still in their easy life and laughter to watch them go by. He could see the wariness with which they watched them, and felt pleased by this. If they felt their lives were truly peaceful here, then they would not be able to acknowledge the leadership he now held over them. Miles was gone, and so were any hopes for a better future under him.

It was then he felt it, heard it in the cry of the falcon that flew overhead. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but he knew. He would always know when something changed and was coming toward him.

It took some time for them to appear in the distance, the small party riding steadily toward the central city. They appeared as any ordinary patrol of men he might send out, but his instinct told him otherwise. He knew who they were, knew it before they had even fully entered these lands.

Patience had never been one of his finer virtues, but he applied every bit he had in that moment, remaining as he was, keeping his eyes trained on the small party. He kept still, even when their presence was recognized and acknowledged, even when the trumpets were hailed, announcing their arrival. He remained there until Gregori came to him, silent in his approach, and always cautious.

"My Lord," Gregori spoke softly, afraid of disturbing Endymion in his thoughts, but Malachite had ordered them to retrieve him at once. "My Lord, Malachite has returned." He chose not to mention the single package that had come with his return, shocking the three other Generals greatly with its immense beauty, but also cool aloofness.

"He has, hasn't he?" Endymion countered, taking a moment to turn and eye his General. Gregori was uneasy and he could easily imagine why. He could not fault the other man, and decided to let it pass. "Let us meet him then."

He strode past his General and down the winding stairs that led below into the entry hall of the palace. He continued until he emerged into the daylight once again, into the courtyard, where Malachite stood waiting patiently, his men behind him, a single small figure blocked by his Head Generals larger body.

The Dark King recognized the suspicion in his General almost immediately, coming to an abrupt halt before him, the two men standing at equal ground, their eyes locking to one anothers.

"Your late. I thought I specifically said no delays." The Dark King's voice was soft, almost calm, but it was the tinge of menace hidden skillfully beneath the surface that had his Generals all shifting uncomfortably.

Malachite's jaw hardened, and for one tense moment he thought to challenge his King, to strike him down and eliminate any threats to Serenity, but almost immediately he backed down, taking one step to the side to allow the Dark King his first full view of her.

"As you can see, we were delayed with just cause."

_The first meeting between the Dark King and the Silvery Maiden._ In silence, Malachite watched as the two took in their first glimpses of one another, as their gazes locked and held. He kept his eyes warily on his sovereign, prepared to defend Serenity should need be against him. He knew, as the other Generals did, how the Dark King tended to treat his women and he would not stand by to watch Serenity subjected to abuse and humiliation.

But even with a high tension pouring through the room and his own black jealousy boiling through him, he could sense that time seemed to come to an abrupt halt, that the sun was suddenly covered in darkness and the winds that had been sweeping gently over the land died, silence reigning over a moment that would be forever seared into time and mark the beginning of the changes that would accompany such an insult against Adonis. Two of the earth's most important beings, one with the power of life and death, the other with the power of seduction and the protection of a wrathful god. Malachite couldn't suppress the shudder that passed through him at the thought, as if taking this one woman would launch a war such as the earth had never seen.

Malachite slid his gaze back to his King, a bit troubled by the intensity of his eyes on Serenity. He hadn't spoken one word, had not moved nor acknowledged any of his men. He had never seen Endymion react in such a way before. He glanced quickly back at Serenity, frowning sharply when he saw the shock and fear marring her exquisite features. She had not looked this way even when she had first seen him, as if she was faced with an evil she had hoped to elude all her life.

The men took cautious steps back when the Dark King moved forward finally, taking slow steps toward her, until he stood before her, his hard gaze moving over her sultry features, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her reached his senses. The naked fear coating her sultry features caused a sharp stab of resentment to pulse through Malachite.

"Her name Malachite." He spoke briskly, never once removing his gaze from hers, as steady as a predator eyeing its prey. Because of this he did not miss the way her eyes widened with horror at the sound of his voice, a violent tremor coursing over her delicate frame as she seemed to realize something.

Malachite came to attention, folding his hands securely behind his back, making sure to keep his expression carefully blank. "Serenity, the Silvery Maiden of Osiris, my Lord."

Endymion stirred then, as if jerked from his trance like state, his hard gaze whipping to his head Generals. "You lie." The single statement was breathed with the beginnings of incredulous rage.

Malachite met his Lord's hard stare with one of his own. "I do not."

A single muscle ticked in his jaw, the only sign of his increasing fury. But before he could react to it she spoke, breaking the suffocating tension of the room. "He does not lie. I am what he says."

Endymion turned his stare back on her, the opaque turning to a near black as he took in the sight of her before him. He could see the fear coating her features, could almost smell it as her breathing became heavier and she struggled to hold her ground. Such a little thing, he mused, to have such courage in her. He'd found men who she could not even equal in half their size who had cowered before him in the past.

But despite her obvious fear of him, it was wonder that brought his dark hand up to cup and caress her cheek, to feel the smooth skin beneath his hand. He felt her cringe at his touch, but he did not remove his hand, sweeping it over her temple and into her lustrous hair, to tangle and sift through the long, silvery strands flowing down her graceful back.

She trembled against him, her eyes remaining on his, her hands forming small fists at her sides. Never, in all his life, had he seen such a beautiful creature, gifted with erotic, sensual beauty, but also a purity and innocence no other woman could ever possess.

Slowly he became aware of his men surrounding them, of their eyes dark with hunger for her, of their gazes lingering on the small heaving breasts. Rage, pure, unadulterated fury rose like a roaring tidal wave through him, a dark, possessive violence causing him to grip her arm and place her behind him, his black fury turning itself on his Generals and the Centurions around them.

His first instinct with these high emotions racing through him was to challenge them with his sword, to draw blood and feel satisfaction for his rage. But even with these burning emotions churning through him he was able to take a deep, calming breath and press down on the demon that forever emerged when any signs of battle came. He had achieved victory so far in his life with careful planning and precise actions. He ruled by his cunning mind and swift blade, and followed the lead of a black heart that had taken him to where he stood this day.

Keeping a tight grip on Serenity's arm, he spoke in a sharp, clipped tone. "Send for a maid." He issued the command to one of the Centurions, who quickly rushed from the room, returning moments later followed by a small, trembling woman.

The maid quickly curtsied, keeping her gaze averted from the Dark King. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Take her to my rooms." He moved aside to reveal Serenity, still taut with tension as every man in the room kept their gaze riveted on her. "See to her needs and remain with her until further notice from me."

The maid curtsied once again, waiting patiently as Endymion circled Serenity's throat with his dark hand, his larger body moving closer to her. "You will follow her and not attempt to defy my will. If you do....," his gaze was focused on her mouth, the hand at her throat tightening only slightly," you will find my fury a formidable opponent."

He released her and stepped back, allowing her to move past him and follow the small maid, both women exiting the room. He did not notice the quick glance she cast toward Malachite, the small moment that passed between them, just before leaving the courtyard. The moment Serenity was gone from sight the heavy tension vanished, allowing the men to relax somewhat in the presence of their sovereign.

Malachite turned to his Centurions and nodded curtly to his men. "Dismissed. Go rest and gather your strengths once again."

Once the Centurions had exited the room and left the Generals with their King, Endymion turned back from the door Serenity had left from, focusing his attention on his head General. "Report."

"The mountains were deserted when we encountered them. We found small signs of life at the base, but none once we began to journey through the trails." Malachite stood stiffly as the Dark King kept his steady gaze on him. "I believe the legends of those mountains kept any rebels from seeking refuge there."

"But you found her." Gregori spoke quietly from beside him, his own curiosity where she was concerned overwhelming him.

"Yes, we found her. There is a temple, deep into the mountains, where I believe no man has ever been able to reach. It seems she has lived here all her life, as well as the other Priestess' who came before her, her ancestors."

"Was she alone Malachite?" Endymion questioned abruptly.

"Yes, my Lord, she was."

"It is important we take into account the legends that accompany this woman." Julius spoke quickly when a small silence had fallen. "We have always thought her to be a myth, a legend, and now that we have her here in this palace we must also realize whom she serves and truly belongs too. She-"

"Belongs to me Julius." Endymion's entire demeanor had changed; where he had once been deep in thought he was now alert, taut with tension and an aggressive stance that had the Generals eyeing him with caution. "Do not make the mistake of thinking she will be returned to where she came from. Her place is with me from this day forward."

Malachite had known this would occur, but he had still hoped the Dark King would perhaps by some miracle not want her and allow him to have her. Taking a deep breath to sustain his courage in the topic he was about to breach with his Lord, he forced himself to speak.

"My Lord, I ask for permission to speak."

Endymion's eyes moved from Julius to his head Generals, the dark opaque still dark with anger, but also curiosity as well now. "Permission granted. Speak."

"My question regards the Maiden, my Lord. I wish to keep her for myself once you no longer have need of her." Malachite's gaze never wavered once from his Kings.

As always the rage came first, the all consuming fury that served its purpose in battle, but on the heels of this anger came the ice, a freezing that poured through his blood and hardened his heart. He knew Malachite's request was perfectly reasonable, a question he should have expected to come from any of his Generals. He took different women periodically only because he tired of them so quickly, sometimes casting them off to his Generals, and if not them then his Praetorians. He was not a man to keep any woman for long.

But he found that instead of the usual calm and cool detachment he felt in such situations, the icy fury that had flooded his veins caused a murderous possessiveness to take over him, nearly consuming his reason to the point of attack against his head General. Such an occurrence was unlike him and made him worry over what power this Maiden could have over him so quickly.

When he spoke there was no emotion in his tone, merely a neutral calm that relieved Malachite. "I will not give you an answer so soon. Give me time to think on this."

The Generals were all taken back by this declaration. Endymion was always so quick to agree, uncaring of where the women went once discarded by him. It was the first woman he had ever hesitated to release.

Malachite's first initiative was to question him, demand Serenity be given to him, but he relented, bowing his head and nodding once. "As you will, my Lord."

"Now I want no interruptions. I will see to my Maiden and expect to be left alone until I send for any of you." Endymion issued the warning calmly before turning on his heel and stalking from the room.

"Its unbelievable, isn't it, to realize this woman truly exists?" Kendrick was still stunned by the discovery. "That she and the others who came before her have resided in that temple for so long."

"Its also dangerous, this game we play." Julius had been captivated by her beauty, but also frightened in knowing Adonis would realize his Maiden had been taken and unleash his fury upon them. "She belongs with her god. We have no right to keep her here."

"It is not in us to question Endymion's decisions. If he wish's to keep her, then we must prepare ourselves for the consequences of these actions." Gregori reminded him softly.

Malachite listened to them argue, vaguely aware of what they were saying to one another. He had not missed the single look of helplessness Serenity had sent toward him just before leaving, nor the quiet plea that had accompanied the look. Although she had treated him with cool disdain along the journey home, she had obviously come to rely on him and also look to him for protection.

It was pure irony that in the moment she needed him most he was helpless to truly protect her as he wished he could.

  
  


**:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::**

  
  
The maid had shown Serenity to the Dark King's rooms, introducing herself as Sarah. She had informed her that she worked mainly in the kitchens as the cooks assistant and also saw to the cleaning of the rooms about the palace from time to time. She had exclaimed over Serenity's beauty with open admiration, chattering on excitedly that she had never seen his majesty so enchanted by any other woman before. 

Serenity listened to her with a faint detachment, sitting serenely atop his magnificent bed, her hands folded in her lap. Sarah bustled about the room, picking up tossed clothing, seeing to her work more from habit then nervousness. She was smoothing the bedding down behind Serenity when she suddenly stopped speaking, a heavy silence ensuing.

Curious to know what could have silenced the joyful girl, Serenity turned slightly to see her staring at the tattoo at her shoulder blade, her eyes wide with both fear and wonder. The instant she turned Sarah quickly averted her gaze, embarrassed to have been caught.

"Has no one ever seen a tattoo?" Serenity questioned with a sigh, remembering Malachite's shock at seeing it as well.

"Yes, my Lady, but that is no ordinary tattoo." Sarah came to stand before her again, studying the smokey eyes topped by the slashing brows, her eyes lingering on the silvery hair that even now gleamed in the glow of the afternoon sun. "It is no wonder you are so beautiful, my Lady."

Serenity cocked one of those brows in question. "Oh?"

"You are the Silvery Maiden of Osiris, my Lady. The stories told of your beauty are legend." Sarah explained. "His majesty will be cherishing you as he has never cherished another."

In that moment each woman heard the footsteps coming toward the door, causing Sarah to straighten and immediately drop into a curtsy as they burst open, the Dark King's large frame filling the doorway. His eyes unerringly found Serenity, drinking in the sight of her as she sat calmly watching him.

"Leave us." He whispered the order, moving aside to allow Sarah to flee the room, leaving them alone.

Serenity was still in brutal shock at the sound of that voice, at the familiarity it held, of the vague memories that had accompanied meeting those eyes for the first time. She had only ever known two people in her life: her mother and Adonis. How was it that this man, this reputed King, held a distant memory for her when she had never met him before?

"I'm pleased that you heeded my warnings, little one." He spoke lazily just before slamming the door shut behind him, moving slowly into the room.

Serenity remembered Adonis, with his golden beauty and superb body strength. And even knowing he had been a prime specimen of man at his finest, she realized he could never compare in physical beauty to this man.

"I had no other choice, did I?" She countered, remaining relaxed despite the fact that he moved closer to her.

"No, you did not. But even with little choices left, I see the rebellion in your eyes." He stood behind her, and she held her breath when she felt his hands in her hair, touching the long, silvery strands. "I admire spirit, little one, and find that I am pleased by both your immense beauty as well."

She shut her eyes tight when his hands wandered from her hair to her bare shoulders, gently massaging the smooth flesh. "What exactly do you want with me?"

He chuckled quietly, a deep rumble that emerged from deep within his chest. "Surely you know."

"I fail to see why a King such as yourself would want a simple maiden who serves a god."

His hands tightened on her shoulders so suddenly she was unable to stop the grimace that accompanied it. "You no longer serve Adonis. Your sole purpose from this day is to see to my own happiness and needs." He moved before her and hauled her to her feet, catching her chin in one hand and forcing her eyes to his. "Do you understand?"

Her eyes flashed, her jaw tightening. "And do you truly believe you can rule a person's life so absolutely?"

"I have no need to believe in something I know. And do not think to defy my will ever." His dark eyes studied her for a moment, before he suddenly crushed her soft mouth beneath his, silencing any protests as he shoved her back on his bed and spread his lithe, powerful frame above her.

  
  


**:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::**

  
  
**Last Notes:** I would first like to say that no, there will be absolutely **_no rape_** in the next chapter, no matter how it may seem with the ending of this one. I was very sick and tired of reading about how my fanfic had rape before and I was able to realize that I wrote the first love scene very poorly. I have taken care of this mistake and I'm only saying to wait until the next chapter comes out to see how I did. 

I hope you guys noticed the title of the story and how it related the title of the first chapter in the original version. I'm finally catching up with what I had written before, but I'm still not near there. Although there are maybe one or two things in this chapter that may be similar to the first chapter of the original, this one is still all its own.

Now I truly hope you all enjoyed this latest installment and will think that it was worth the wait. I hurried as quickly as I could, when I could, to add to this fic for you guys. So now please do me a favor and review! I really want to know what you guys thought of this chapter. So I'll end with saying that if the response is big, then I'll definitely work my ass off to get Carnal Moon posted ASAP next. Thanks! :: SailorP ::

_**The Dark King**_ copyright © 9.29.02 by _SailorPerfect_   


_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


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